I'm Not Completley BrokenAm I?
by InuKagluver91
Summary: Your probably wondering...What is this about? It doesn't look like anything new...That's because it's not. This story is 16 years in the making and will probably continue until I die. That's right. This is the story of my life. The Life of Kagome Higurash


I don't know when my memories started...I'm not even sure I have memories...It seems like everything I know, I've always known. But I suppose when I first became aware of the world, was when I lived in the shit-hole home. It was piled with trash, in every corner, cats running in and out, pissing on my clothes. Rats running across the floor, opossums lumbering behind the furniture in the night. I wasn't rich. But at least I wasn't homeless, close to it at times sure, but still not homeless. Though I think living in that house might have been what warped me the way I am...not that I'm completely broken...yet. 

I reflect on the years in that house fondly, even through being bitten by rats, falling through rotted floors and becoming accustomed to violence and sexuality at such a young age, before 10 I believe...It's so hard to tell. I lived with my parents, my brother and my sister and went to school. For all appearances we were a happy family. But when the outsiders were gone, that's when it all came out. My mother and father, used to fight. A lot. They would never hit each other, no, but the verbal abuse they spewed at each other was harsh. I think back to hiding, in the darkest place I could find. My closet. And listening to them, screaming and yelling blaming each other...I couldn't stand it, my heart was always weak...Even now yelling brings me to tears and I think back to the hours I used to spend in that closet, knees to my chest, crying my heart out until my brother came and got me.

My brother and sister and I never had any real toys. Barbie's and dolls, for me, were great! My fathers friend had a daughter a few years older than me who didn't play with them anymore and gave them to me...But they were hardly in any condition to play with. My older siblings and I used to just run around in the yard for hours, making up games, or daring each other to run into the crotchety old mans yard next to us. If I recall correctly he had children too, but they were never aloud to play with us...I never knew until my family had to move...We were living on the land he wanted to buy...It was because of him that my family had to move...because of him...I came to know this world of lies, sex, drugs, rape, murder and gangs. And because of his own selfishness, a little girl was thrust into the world without warning, without preparation...Without defense...And became broken, cold, and worse...Heartless

I was 12 when we moved, we stayed in the same state, hell even the same city, but it wasn't the same. I went to the same school, but I rode a different bus, with different people. Not like it mattered everyone at school hated, and still hates me anyways. I never knew why, they teased me so. They would say it stunk when I was around, I bathed every night, I wore deodorant, why were they so mean to me? They would giggle when my back was turned, laughing at me. I knew they would do this. I never gave them the satisfaction of seeing me cry though...Not even when the spit balls began. I would pull them from my hair and ask to go to the bathroom to fix it. While there I would stare into the mirror, wondering...Why am I so different? I wore no make-up, I didn't have any. We couldn't afford it, and even if I did have it why would I wear it? I'd probably mess it up...I had no one to teach me. My sister was always gone, away from the house we'd moved to, and I all alone with my father at work, and my brother gone off with a friend. Where was my mother during these times? On the computer. As always, although I accepted the fact that she wouldn't get off the computer, I still yearned for someone, anyone to love me.  
But I guess that's asking for to much isn't it?

Throughout my school years, since middle school began, I've been picked on, teased. All I've ever wanted at school was to be left alone...

School became hell.

In Middle School it was only verbal abuse, with spit balls spread out over the years, and general avoidance...Every once in a while I had to endure those teachers who believe they are doing good, when in reality they are making it worse. Parent teach conferences always ended in me promising to try harder in school, and on the way home listening to either my father or the both of them fighting. Depending upon who the school wanted to see that time. Then they would turn on me, making me show them my school work. I had no problem doing it, I knew it already, why did the teachers have to insist on re-learning something every year?

In High School...Well, I still haven't graduated, and I refuse to sit out the 3 years I have left in that shit-hole place. This summer I turn 16, and I'm gone.  
I can't stay in this house. In this city. In this whole state! Everyone is so demanding that I be who and what they want when they want it. And because I'm not, I am punished. My peers at school punish me everyday, whether I show it or not. I die on the inside every day. I've been pushed around, into lockers, into walls, into desks and computers, even into other people who push back, I've endured countless insults, constant nagging from the teachers, and still I must be punished. Did I do something wrong? Is it because I breathe? I'm sorry let me end that for you. Let me just grab my pills, a mix of a bunch of different medications, and I'll be out of your hair.

Oh wait? You want me to stay? You have a funny way of showing it...Fine. I'll stay. For now...

A year later and here I am...Describing my life to you...Well now that I've recounted things I wish would go away, I will go, I feel the need for a cigarette...And even though I am trying to quit, I cannot dispel the urge for any longer...I must pick up the razor.


End file.
